there's danger in her eyes and bloodlust on her lips
by xoxomolls
Summary: "She smiles that shiny little smile and it's deadly and perfect." DarkScott. DarkLydia. AU. Scydia. Sciles. Allydia. Oneshot.


::

It starts with a plea.

::

He meets Lydia Martin in a bar on the west side of Beacon County and buys her a drink. She grins and beckons him over when she tastes vodka instead of tequila, and tells him that his hair is messy, but she likes it anyway.

She asks for his name and he tells her, and she smiles a shiny little smile and taps him on the chest with her bright red nails and downs her last shot.

She's beautiful and maybe that's why he says yes when she leans over and whispers in his ear.

_"Well, Scott McCall, do you want to do something dangerous with me?"_

::

He likes the way she grips the sleeve of his jacket as they walk and he likes the way he can hear the sound her heels make when they hit the concrete.

She stops in front of a door and raises an eyebrow at him, "You ready?"

"Depends on what you want me to do."

She smiles and slips something hard into his hands. "There's a man inside the pawnshop across the street. I want you to point and shoot. And try not to waste my bullets."

He slides his finger against the trigger, and laughs as if he was expecting to be handed a gun by a beautiful girl and told to commit murder. "I don't miss."

The redhead nods, and her eyes light up in a way that would scare him if he wasn't so excited.

::

Derek Hale is the first person he kills for her.

At first, the man fights back. He cusses and screams and tells him that he's going to rip his throat out, and Scott is forced to aim for his kneecap just to keep him still. And then the man cries and begs and talks about his sister, and it makes him seem so much smaller and he just won't shut up and his words are getting tangled together and all of the sudden he's shouting threats and curses again and it's all too loud.

And then he puts a bullet in the back of his head and the man goes quiet.

His lips curl up in a smirk when the redhead steps forward, a cold smile on her red mouth. She kisses him hard and then pulls away to admire his handwork.

"Well, McCall, a little messy, but nice to look at it."

"I thought you liked messy, Lyds."

She smiles again and traces her finger along the scratch under his eye. "Oh, I do, don't I?"

Derek Hale is the first person he kills for her.

He isn't the last.

::

He thinks it's over, but it's not because two hours later he's standing in line at a quaint little music store in fresh clothes with the gun tucked under his white shirt and her hand wrapped around his. She curls her lips in disgust as they get closer and closer to the brown-haired girl at the counter, and he wonders what she did to gain Lydia's anger.

And then her mouth is touching his ear and he feels like his skin is on fire, and she trails her hand along the back of his neck and he can feel her feral grin.

"Kill her."

He waits until the store is empty again and makes his way towards the register. And then he's close enough to see that her nametag reads Cora and she looks harmless, but Lydia is still clutching his arm, so he puts the gun to her head and pulls the trigger before she has time to beg him not to.

And Lydia looks like an angel even covered in someone else's blood, and then she's grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the mess.

::

They get a hotel room and he turns the shower knob until steam fills the bathroom and the heat makes his lungs ache. He scrubs until his skin is raw and sore and thinks about the girl named Cora.

::

His days are filled red hair and green eyes and his nights are filled with fiery touches and slippery hands and everything is silent.

Until he wakes up a few weeks later to Lydia giving him a sinister grin that makes his skin crawl in something akin to pleasure. She tells him that she found their next target and that this time is going to be different.

"I want to do it this time. You just have to keep watch. Do you think you can do that for me, McCall?" And she runs her fingers through his tangled hair and he tells her that he'd do anything for her.

"I know you would. That is why I keep you around after all."

::

Her name is Malia Tate and her eyes are wide and wary when the red-haired beauty saunters towards her, and he's worried she suspects something, but then she beams and asks if she can help him. She looks like she could be his age and a part of him whispers that she's too young to die in such a brutal way, but it still makes his heart race when Lydia slits her throat. She kisses him with a wicked smirk and he doesn't care that her lips are stained red by something other than lipstick and he thinks that she's perfect in a dark dark way.

(and he forgets all about the girl that was too young to die in any way at all)

::

After the blood is washed from his hands and the stained clothes are just remnants in the fireplace, he asks her why.

She cocks her head at him and looks small and innocent for a moment and then her eyes take on a haunted expression and her voice gets wistful and soft.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl named Allison. And she was golden and nice and pure. She would have given away her lungs if she thought they could save someone. It never mattered if she was okay as long as everyone else was safe. She was the kind of person that was just so good it made you want to puke at first, but then you realized it wasn't an act or a facade, it was just who she was and you eventually loved her for it. She was good and Peter Hale took her from me. He took her and I watched as he squeezed the life out of her and dropped her to the ground like she didn't mean anything. But she meant everything."

"You loved her."

Her features harden and bitterness overtakes her as she chokes out a harsh laugh. "Everyone loved her. I just loved her more than most. I swore to her before she died that I'd get him back for her. That I'd make him pay."

And then she smiles gleefully and looks at him with twinkling eyes. "And now everyone he cares about is dead. We won." She looks up towards the ceiling and grins breathlessly, seeming to forget he's even in the room. "Do you hear that, Ally? We won."

::

He thinks that he would have liked Allison if he had gotten the chance to meet her.

Lydia tells him as much later that night. She kisses him and drags her nails across his skin until she draws blood, and whispers into his hair.

"Ally would have liked you. You're just her type. You would have liked her too. And then I would have had to kill you."

If it wasn't for the bliss running through his veins, he might have wondered about the madness twirling in her eyes. But he was too lost in her red lips and soft skin and sharp teeth to notice.

::

Peter Hale finds them on a month after they kill his daughter and holds a gun to his head while Lydia looks on with a raised eyebrow and blank expression.

"Go ahead."

He tells himself that she's just calling his bluff, but there's a voice in his head screaming that she's a liar and he doesn't know what to believe anymore, so he bites down on the hand covering his mouth and grabs the gun and pushes down on the trigger until there's nothing coming out and the man falls to the carpet with holes in his chest.

And she steps forward with her deadly heels and smiles that shiny little smile.

"I have one last job for you."

He doesn't know why he doesn't shoot her and run, but he doesn't and four days later, he's got the gun behind his back and Lydia's lips on his neck.

She says that she forgot someone, the most important someone of all, and he doesn't ask questions. Not at first. He just lets her pull him through the streets until they get to a joke of an apartment with an even bigger joke of a security system.

It's not until he's standing on the ragged welcome mat that he turns towards the cruel and calculated girl and asks.

"Who is it?"

She pauses from where she's picking the lock and her lips curve downward into an acidic expression. "The only person who claimed to love her as much as I did. He tried to turn her against me and it almost worked. It would have if I wasn't so persuasive."

There's a metallic noise as the door unlocks, and she steps back with a pleased smile and motions for him to pass. He finds the target in the kitchen and feels his heart stop because he knows that blue plaid shirt and he knows that face and he knows everything about the man standing in front of him and if there's one person he can't hurt, it's the person looking at him with confused eyes.

"Scott?"

"Well, well, well, looks like you two know each other. Do it, McCall." Lydia's voice is vindictive and full of hatred and he knows that if he doesn't do something, she will, so he closes his eyes and shoots.

::

It doesn't make him smile this time. It just makes him feel like he's drowning in regrets and useless words and his hands are red and the walls are red and she's red from her hair to her toes, but Stiles is still blue and his hands are shaking until the gun falls and it's all too much.

And then there's the sound of sirens and he realizes that he forgot to put the silencer on, and Stiles is looking at him with a broken look and he meets his best friend's eyes.

_"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."_

Stiles screams and begs him not to, but he's already a dead man, so he may as well make it count and he puts the gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger.

(he dies with apologies in his throat and lipstick stains on his shirt)

::

It ends with a plea.

{and this time it's his own}

::


End file.
